No Time Left
by mysterybox815
Summary: Some basic re-writes of a few scenes from season 6, all centered on Sayid. Violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

**Episode: Sundown**

* * *

I.

The Interpreter flings his body into the spring after his dead master. Sayid just watches on with a mixture of pity and disgust as Dogen's corpse is turned around. His eyes are wide open but white, sunk back into his skull. However, the Man doesn't look at him like he has just lost a friend, but more like he has just lost a slice of faith. The way one would feel after their pastor dies, less a sense of sadness and more a sense that they've been used. If he was so holy, so important, why is he now laying dead? What was it all for?

With the blood painting his hands red the Man stumbles thoughtlessly back up the stairs of the pool. "Do you realize what you just did?" He screams. He's angry, but at himself too. The question could even have been directed to himself. "He was the only thing keeping it out," the Man continues, "Idiot!"

Sayid glances down at the knife on the ground and back to the Man. He had agreed with Dogen that Jacob drove a hard bargain, but Locke certainly didn't. It was a choice so clear that it was hardly a choice at all. He looks inside himself and all he sees is black, straight to his core and varnishing his heart like a coat of oil.

The Man is still shouting, "You just let it in!"

The monster roars, but not from a distance. This monster is much closer and the scream comes internally, breathing like a fire through Sayid's chest. He quickly brandishes the gold plated knife and slashes the pointed edge across the Man's throat. The blade tears his jugular open and all the entrails in his neck fall lose, spurting blood into the murky water below and onto the sacred grounds of the temple, not sacred anymore.

The Man falls to the ground just as dead as his mentor and his eyes are just as wide. He looks alive, so alive that Sayid feels obligated to reply.

"I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**Episode: Sundown**

* * *

II.

Sayid is sitting on the edge of the pool watching over the corpses like a guardian, starring intently at the blade still grasped firmly in his hand and at the blood running down the edge.

"Sayid?"

A voice causes him to turn at the neck. He cackles demonically to himself, oddly amused at who he finds. "Hello Benjamin."

Ben scans the spring and the carnage that lays within. His eyes cross the brandished dagger and he keeps his distance. "Come on," he speaks slowly and methodically, "I know a way out of here."

The sound of the tyrannosaurus like creature can still be heard tearing a warpath through the temple. Fire and brimstone litter what is left of the camp and loose debris lay twisted and distorted. Sayid looks around with a smile. He belongs here.

"Why would I want to leave?" He asks while pushing his eyebrows together curiously.

He spins the knife in his hand and watches the graceful movement gleefully. Sayid glances back to Ben and they both have the same thing on their mind. He stands to his feet. "Why do you want to leave Ben?"

Ben responds by taking a few paces back. His eyes are cautiously observing Sayid from below his raised eyebrows. "Come on," he repeats carefully, "there's still time."

Sayid considers it. Not Ben's plea but stabbing the knife deep into his neck. He wants to but knows it won't do any good. He had already trying killing Benjamin Linus when he shot that bastard of a child. He extends his hand and grasps Ben's with his other. He places the knife, still soaked with blood, into Ben's palm and wraps his fingers around it. This isn't the first time Ben has had blood on his hands. Sayid neither. There's something fitting about having the same blood stain both of them.

"Not for me," he replies and turns back to admire the destruction behind him.

The sounds are dying out and there is an eerie calm spreading throughout the camp. Sayid cranes his neck again and sees that Ben has retreated, abandoning him. He notices Claire stumbling through the wreckage like a zombie towards her master and he follows suit, out to join his new family.


	3. Chapter 3

**Episode: Recon**

* * *

III.

The spunky brunette joins Sayid on the fallen log, though he doesn't even seem to notice. He's too busy starring blankly at the ground, his mind just as blank as the view.

"Do believe Locke?" Kate asks, just trying to find something to say.

Sayid grits his teeth like he's in pain and the act of producing words just causes him further discomfort. "What do you mean?"

It's been deathly slow with everyone seemingly just waiting for something to happen. She's glad to have the conversation partner. "That he can get us off the island." She kicks some dirt around with her shoes and that captures more of Sayid's attention then her voice.

"Yes," he manages, "I believe him." He flashes her a sideways glance to show a vague hint of honesty in his reply.

Kate throws him a worried look and Sayid glares back towards the ground, trying to avoid eye contact. He doesn't want her to see him like this.

"Sayid," she moves closer and places her hand on his, "are you alright."

He notices something approaching the brunette from behind but decides not to mention it. It's not worth the energy of having to speak, for even talking is a chore when you are dead inside. He pulls his hand back from hers.

"No."

Kate is grasped from around the shoulders and pulled backward, causing her to tumble to the ground. Claire spins her around onto her back and straddles the woman, using her knees to pin her arms above her chest.

"Claire!" Kate cries out. She moans when a knife is pressed deep into her neck.

Sayid sees the blade make contact with her flesh and looks on with a mild curiosity.

"Sayid, please!"

Suddenly Locke is there, pulling Claire up by the arm. Sayid turns back, losing what little interest in the proceeding he had. Kate gets to her knees and rubs her neck while coughing.

"She took him!" Claire screams, her voice full of bottled anger and hate. "She took Aaron!"

"Claire, you had disappeared," Locke reminds her. There is an authority in his voice but also a trace of manipulation, like he's watering an already planted seed. "She did what she had to do."

"She took Aaron! She can't just do this!"

Locke's hand sends Claire's face reeling to the left, leaving a red hand print on her cheek. Kate looks appalled at the entire scene with her mouth held agape in disbelief. Sayid had stopped watching long ago.

"This is completely inappropriate!" Locke grabs her by the shoulders and holds her firmly in place. "Now you go over there," he motions to a clearing in the jungle, "I'll deal with you in a minute."

Claire's eyes are fixed down like a child who has just been caught misbehaving. She gives Kate an apologetic look before disappearing behind the trees.

Locke sighs like a disappointed father and turns his attention to Kate. "You alright?"

It comes bitterly and Kate can't help but to snort sarcastically at the question. "No! I'm not alright!" She turns and walks off herself, wanting to be alone. It's been three long years, she didn't expect the happy reunion like you'd see on TV but she doesn't even recognize Claire anymore. It's like she turned into... something else.

Locke pats Sayid on the back. "How are you holding up?"

Sayid looks up with his eyes while keeping his head tilted down, there is a pain evident on his face and his breathing is labored. "I can't feel anything."

"Good," Locke responds cheerfully giving him a nod and a smile, "it'll help you get through what's coming next." He looks like he's about to add something but just saunters off towards Claire.

Sayid is alone again and grateful for it. If he cared what came next Locke's words would have provided a small measure of relief. But he doesn't. For the moment he's just glad to have Kate gone. It was almost worth letting Claire slash her throat if it would have ended her forced conversation and looks of pity. All he has now is his thoughts, and luckily for him they are silent.


	4. Chapter 4

**Episode: Sundown**

* * *

IV.

Sayid has always been good at putting pieces together, fragments to make a whole. He painstakingly fits the last shard of glass into the vase and holds the sculpture back to admire his work. Just like a puzzle. The front door then opens and his attention is drawn to it.

Nadia enters looking worn down but still gorgeous. Her hair is grimy and her eyes are lassoed by dark circles like she's been awake all night. However, Sayid doubts that she has ever not looked entirely beautiful in her life.

Her gaze is immediately drawn to the reassembled vase. "What..."

"We had an unfortunate incident," Sayid says as he places it down gently and holds his breath, "involving a boomerang." He slowly removes his hands and gives a satisfied nod as the pile of glue and glass doesn't shatter instantly apart. "My apologies."

She just sighs and tosses her purse on the couch. "What time did the kids go to bed?"

"About two hours ago," Sayid replies and stands. He makes his way over to offer his comfort. It's well received.

Nadia sinks into his firm grasp and closes her eyes. After spending all night in a hospital waiting room it feels like pure bliss. His cologne smells like a tonic compared to that of antiseptics. But suddenly an expression of worry quickly covers her face. "What did you tell them?"

"That daddy had an accident but is going to be fine." If only convincing himself was as easy. She looks relieved though and that's enough to relieve Sayid.

"He is still recovering from surgery but he's awake," Nadia says and pulls back from the embrace. "Did he tell you about the loan?"

Sayid frowns as her body slips out from his arms. She looks radiant tonight, like an angel. He just wants to hold her forever. However, he knows that he can't.

"Look," he shakes his head while he speaks, "I have money, I can..."

"No!" Nadia curtly interrupts. "This is Omer's responsibility, he brought this on himself."

Sayid was just being courteous and is glad to be let off the hook. If he actually did possess the money he would have given it to the men himself long ago. He feels rotten but Omer is the farthest thing from his mind. Nadia slips out of her jacket and the moonlight seems to enhance her natural beauty, illuminating her body with a pale glow.

"Nadia," he speaks with a shaken voice, "come with me."

"Come with you? Where? Away?" One question after another, all making his fantasy seem less like a possible reality.

"Yes, away!" He shouts passionately. "Somewhere safe, somewhere safe with me!"

"You're only saying that because you want to protect me!"

Sayid moves in for an embrace but again she pulls back. He grimaces. "And you're only saying that because you don't know these men. They are dangerous, they've done terrible things!"

"And you haven't?"

Like a dagger. But he knows it's true. Sayid retreats back and clasps his face in contemplation.

"Why didn't you want to be with me," she asks, "you carry around my picture."

Sayid looks up flustered and opens his mouth to explain but Nadia cuts him off.

"Why did you push me towards your brother?"

"For the past twelve yeas I've been trying to wash my hands of all the terrible things I've done. I thought that... I thought that I didn't deserve you."

It's convincing and Sayid's been saying it for so long that he's starting to believe it. But it's an excuse and they both know it, even if they won't admit it.

Nadia shakes her head. "It's too late, my place is by Omer."


	5. Chapter 5

**Episode: The Last Recruit**

* * *

V.

The gun in Sayid's left hand feels more like an extension of his arm than a separate piece of machinery and he grips it preciously like it means something. He gazes down the well and into darkness. Desmond. Without even a flinch he targets the barrel downward towards the Scotsman's face, which is inversely craned upward. His eyes are similar to the gun; blank and unforgiving.

Desmond sighs like he's had enough. "So what did he offer ya?"

No expression. "What?"

"If you're gonna shoot me in cold blood brother," his voice is fatigued but biting, "I think I have a right to know what you're getting in exchange for it."

For the first time since his death he feels a creeping doubt. Not a complete sensation but an unease. He hasn't blown the Scotsman away yet and it bothers him. There's something in Desmond's words that makes Sayid feel compelled to reply.

"He told me... I could get back something that I lost."

"And what did you lose?"

Sayid grits his teeth. The memory is becoming real to him and it's confusing, for only those who are alive have memories.

"The woman I loved."

Desmond cocks his head and scoffs. "And where is she now?"

"Dead." It hurts. It shouldn't hurt, but an undeniable pain sears through his fists and he grips the steel tighter. It hurts like hell but it's a good feeling. A human feeling.

"What makes you think that Locke can bring her back?" There's an absurdity in Desmond's voice.

"I died," he weakly confesses, "and he brought me back."

The strange feeling lingers like a guilt. If he's supposed to be dead than why now is this pain tormenting him? _I AM dead_, he tells himself, _and Locke brought me back and he will bring her back_. But why can't he believe it. As the memory of the woman grows more real so does the reality. _She died. We had our time together and she died._

The Scotsman can sense a doubt hanging between them. "What will you tell her?"

Sayid looks down, not mechanically this time but intentionally. His eyebrows are pushed together and his expression resembles a human, a tormented but living human.

"What do you mean?" His finger isn't even on the trigger.

"This woman," Desmond replies, "when she asks you what you did to be with her again... what will you tell her?"

There should be a thick tension hovering in the air but there isn't. Neither of them needs to say more and Sayid doesn't respond. They both already know the outcome.


End file.
